


Scatter the Grace in Your Eyes

by becca_the_quiet_one



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Siblings, hijinks and capers, so technically an au now, written pre-season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becca_the_quiet_one/pseuds/becca_the_quiet_one
Summary: She can still feel where the touch of Carmens glove lingers on her skin.“My hero.” She breathes out, grinning.Zack gags. “Gross.”5 times Ivy noticed Carmens hands + 1 time Carmen noticed hers
Relationships: Carmen SanDiego/Ivy, Ivy/Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 16
Kudos: 118





	Scatter the Grace in Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> So how bout that ending?
> 
> Personally I really liked it, thought the part where she leaves them behind was weird, and I've chosen to interpret it in a way that means they stay family. That being said, most of this was written before season 4, so be warned.

Zack can be a bit of a shit when he wants to be.

“Hey Ivy, imagine the size of these boogers!”

She rolls her eyes. “Zack, get away from the cliff. Or I’ll make sure you got a bigger bruise tomorrow than this guys head.”

She gestures sharply to the cliff face below her. 

“Keep it together you too. Carmen should be done securing the site in a few minutes.” Player's voice rings in her ear. “And please don’t deface Mount Rushmore.”

Zack immediately takes an interest in some other rock formation atop the massive cliff face, and Ivy rolls her eyes as she refocuses back on her laptop.

“Hey, Player?” Ivy knits her eyebrows. “Do you think this seismic activity looks a little sketchy?”

“Hold on one sec Ivy.” Player commands, a note of worry in his voice.

“What’s up?” She knits her brow. “Is something wrong?”

“No? I don’-Oh shoot-”

“Player?” Ivy jumps to her feet. “What’s going on?”

“Everythings fine! I just- uh oh.”

“Play- agh!” Her earpiece begins letting out a piercing screech, and she rips it out of her ear.

Ivy whips around to find her brother ripping his own earpiece out. “Somethings not right.” 

The words are barely out of her mouth when the ground beneath them begins to shake. That being, the ground currently over a mile above the ground.

Zack dives onto his stomach, clinging to a break in the rock. “Ivy!”

She stumbles, and a particular hard shake sends her reeling backward.

Right over the side of the cliff.

In a panic she reaches out blindly, snagging a ledge in the rock.

The rest of her slams hard onto the cliff face. She grunts, digging her fingers in as hard as she can.

“Zack! I’m down here!”

She gets no response, and her heart begins to race.

The shaking gets even more violent. Ivy closes her eyes as her grip falters. She tries to think about her brother, her new life for herself that she’s created and all the things she has yet to do. But it’s no use.

She winces as her fingers lose their grip. Her stomach climbs its way up into her throat as she screams.

“Gotcha!” 

Ivy forces her eyes open, and thanks her lucky stars that Carmen has one arm wrapped tightly around her. Ivy returns the favor, clinging tightly to Carmens waist as a wave of relief rushes through her.

Carmen always looks and sounds so confident as she swings through the air. But her hand is clenched so tightly around Ivy’s wrist, she can’t help but wonder if that isn’t the case.

Carmen squints down at her. “Sorry about this.”

Then she drops her somewhat unceremoniously onto a patch of bushes nearby, and flips around the other side, still in hot pursuit. 

Ivy pants, tries to catch her breath and relax her muscles. At least the shakings finally stopped.

“Ivy!” Zack comes running from behind the bushes. “Are ya okay?”

Is she?

She can still feel where the touch of Carmens glove lingers on her skin.

“My hero.” She grins

Zack gags. “Gross.”

* * *

It begins near the stroke of midnight, after Ivy’s finally decided to pry herself off the couch and begin cleaning up the post-sugar rush catastrophe that is the living room.

Zacks long since passed out on the other side of the room. Curled protectively around the plastic samurai sword Shadowsan begrudgingly presented him with. The man in turn is ramrod straight on the recliner, snoring like a motorboat.

Ivy piles together the remnants of popcorn, cake, and candy together and stumbles towards the kitchen, drowsy from the sugar and the lateness of the hour.

She pauses.  _ Did I leave the light on? _

She shifts the pile of stuff onto one arm as she pushes the door open. She blinks her eyes rapidly against the bright yellow light and drops her armload against the counter.

Her nose tells her that something smells delicious. Her stomach grumbles in protest.

“Carm?” Ivy turns her head to the sounds of frying. “What are you doing up?”   


Carmen hums. “Cooking.”

“At this hour?” Ivy passes by her easily, grabbing the tupperware from the cupboard. “Sorry, did you not like the pizza? I only let Zack order Triple Burger Bacon because it was his birthday.”

“The pizza was fine.” Carmen chuckles softly. “I was just feeling a little… off. So I made chimichangas. Want some?”

Ivy’s not one to question anyones coping techniques. But she’s not one to make herself desperately ill for the sake of someone that doesn’t mean the world to her.

“Sure.” She says finally, resigning herself to an uncomfortable morning tomorrow.

Carmen smells like onions and peppers as she passes by her, grabbing a plate and loading it up. “I used to do this all the time back on the Island. Whenever I was feeling down, I’d sneak down to the kitchens and try to make something I knew was Argentinian. When I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was there.”

Ivy frowns as she takes her seat. “So you’re feeling… homesick?”

Carmen passes her the plate and sighs. “It’s… complicated.”

Ivy swallows another bite of her enchilada. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Carmen pauses for a second, before she takes the seat opposite Ivy at their little round kitchen table. She sighs as she sits down, pulling her hair free from its loose bun and running her hands through it. Ivy forces her hands to stay on the table, suppressing the urge to do that for her.

“You’d think that finding out everyone who ever loved me up to a certain point was a career criminal would color my memories a little. And it does but…” She hesitates. “Not all of them.”

Ivy motions for her to continue. “Liiiike?”   
Carmen chuckles. “Like… when Bellum would let me play around in her lab sometimes. Or that time when one of the students made me climb the tallest tree and Brunt made him do a hundred pushups every time she saw him. Or when El Topo and Le Chevre told me that it was normal to feel weird things around some of the older girls.”

Ivy chokes a little on that last line, but Carmen continues. 

“Or when I would make asada.” She finishes softly. “And I would force some of the older kids to help me, because I was too small to use a knife. But after classes, they would all file out and stop by for lunch. And that… made me happy.”

“Even Coach Brunt.” She adds. “And believe me. That woman  _ cannot _ handle spicy food.”

Ivy shrugs. “Hey, I’m pretty sure Zack’ll eat anything. So whenever you feel like it, just lemme know.”

“Thank you but no.” Carmen smiles sadly. “It’s meant to be a great big… family thing.”

“Oh.” Ivy stops. “I’m sorry Carm.”

“It’s fine.” Carmen turns the flame off on the stove. “Sometimes it’s just hard. Because those memories still make me happy when I think about them, even knowing what came after.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Ivy comes up behind Carmen, places her hand on her shoulder, as reassuring as she can. “That’s your past Carm, and the fact that some of it makes you happy is a good thing.”

“Heck, my favorite memory of bein’ a kid is when I built my first engine, and Zack broke it the next week when we ran from the cops.” Ivy shakes her head. “But I'm not sad about it because I know that it all ended up leading me to you, and look at where we are now.”

“I’m sorry that your family is so much smaller now.” She continues. “But I think we can both agree it’s still way better, right?”

“Yes.” The smell of onions and garlic must still stain the skin of Carmens hands as she places one over that hand Ivy has on her shoulder. “Thank you, Ivy, That helped.”

“No problem.” Ivy can’t help the way her voice gets thicker, lower as she realizes just how close this puts them.

“To tell you the truth…” Carmen says, leaning in closer. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

“Me either.” Ivy whispers against her lips and closes the gap between them.

She regrets eating the enchiladas, hopes the sweet cakes and candy from earlier shine through instead. Carmen's hand finds its way onto her shoulder and Ivy finds her own sneaking around Carmen's waist.

“When did you say your birthday was?” Carmen asks with shining eyes as she pulls away. “Boston Birthdays are great. Let's celebrate the next time it comes up.”

Ivy groans into her shoulder. “Can’t we just do this?”

* * *

Ivy fiddles with her tie. It's Carmen’s color, because of course it is.

The suit itself is blue though, and she can’t help but feel out of place in the swanky, pristine white bathroom suite Carmen put her and Zack up in for the night.

She dips her hands into the gel, running her hands this way and that through her hair, trying to get it at least semi-presentable. She ends up with something half mangled, but the pit in her stomach feels like it has thorns, so she forces herself away from the mirror and out of the bathroom.

She’s supposed to meet Carmen and Zack downstairs in five minutes. They’re tailing some Scandinavian princess tonight, one Carmens sure is a target for Vile and that Zack is sure to try and woo. Badly.

All Ivy’s sure of is that the portions of food served will be tiny, she won’t know how to participate in any conversation, and that this event will generally make hermiserable.

But tonight she’ll grin and bear it. 

There was a word for the warmth that filled her chest every time Carmen fell asleep against her shoulder on plane rides. Or how her heart jumps when Carmen takes her hand to lead her through a museum they’re casing. Or the jittery feeling that settles in her stomach every time they’ve just pulled off another caper and Carmen looks at her with pride in her eyes.

Or when Carmen did just about anything, because dammit, Ivy was in love with her. And Ivy's not one to keep secrets.

Glancing around the room, she gathers some courage to practice. “Carmen, I-”

“Ivy?” A voice outside knocks her out of her monologue. “You’re gonna be late.”

“The one time he bothers to be punctual.” She grumbles, stomping over to the door.

She throws it open and-

“Oh.” 

It’s a dress Ivy knows Carmen has worn before. It usually hangs in the back of her closet back in San Diego, and Ivy knows why Carmen keeps it around.

Long-sleeved, red, and tight, Ivy tries and fails to keep her jaw off the floor.

Carmens looks her up and down and smiles. “You look enchanting, Ivy.” 

She flushes red. “S-same to you Carm.”

On impulse and before she can overthink it, she presses a kiss on Carmen's cheek. Just to the left of her ear so as not to smudge her makeup.

“Shall we?” She holds out her arm for Carmen to take, and begins leading them towards the elevator.

“We need to steer of the operative until we know for sure what his plan is.” Carmen leans her side up against Ivy’s, rests her head on her shoulder. “Thank you. I know how hard this stuff is for you.”

Ivy melts, and presses a kiss to Carmen's hairline because she just can’t help it. “No problem.”

_ For you, anything. _

Carmen buries her face in Ivy’s neck. “You smell nice.”

“Guh.” Ivy says intelligently, and tries not to confess right there.

The elevator doors pings open, and Carmen straightens up as they enter the floor.

Immediately Ivy feels out of place, the glitz and shine of the room and those present making her want to run very far and very fast, all the way back to her workshop garage back home.

But Carmen squeezes her hand before letting go, and suddenly it's a little more bearable.”

“Stay out of sight.” She whispers. “I’ll be right back.”

Ivy fidgets as she makes her way over to the tables draped in long white cloth. She searches the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of Carmen.

Her eyes do end up falling on Zack, swaying back and forth with a short, slender blonde girl in his arms.

“My baby brother, dancing with a princess.” Ivy says to herself in disbelief. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Zack catches her stare and grins, winking.

Ivy gives a curt but approving nod.  _ Way to go bro. _

“Sorry about that.” Carmen slides into the seat right next to her and Ivy jumps.

“N-no. Problem.” Ivy chuckles nervously. “What's the situation?”

“Oh, I was just talking to Dr. Bernard and his husband.” Carmen grabs two champagne glasses off the tray of a passing waiter. “The charity they founded has helped a lot of children find loving homes.”

_ The L word. _

Ivy grabs the glass and begins chugging. 

Carmen knots her eyebrows and looks alarmed. “Ivy? Are you okay?” 

“FIne.” Her voice cracks. “Doyouwannadance?”   


She holds out her hand awkwardly, and wants to slap herself with it. 

But Carmen smiles as she takes her hand and leads her over to the floor. Ivy feels herself begin to relax, maybe this will all be fine after all.

Then Carmen moves her hand to her waist, pulls her close as they begin to sway to the music.

_ Tooclosetooclosetooclose _

On instinct, Ivy wraps her arms around Carmen's waist, and tries to remember how to breathe.

“You’re unusually quiet tonight.” Carmen says from Ivy’s shoulder. “Something on your mind?”

“Uh... I just wanted to tell you that-”

“Oh shoot.” Carm interrupts, presses her fingers into her ear where Players earpiece rests. “We lost him.”

“Okay, let’s-” Ivy moves to untangle herself, but Carmen stops her.

“No, we have the best vantage point from here. Just try to keep an eye out.” She juts her chin towards the balconies above the dance floor. “So, what were you saying?”

“Oh. Right. Well, the thing is…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ivy spots a man on one of the topmost balconies. She squints, trying to get a better look. The man appears crazed, looking around frantically.

“Ivy?”

The operative scans the room even more frantically now, and Ivy’s blood run colds when his eyes land on them.

“Carm, I-”

Her heart drops into a stomach at the flash of silver he pulls from his jacket. Aiming right at-

Ivy’s body reacts on big-sister instinct before she realizes it. Carmen stumbles as she’s yanked down behind her, the force almost knocking her over.

“What-”

Ivy hears the bang before she feels it, and her vision goes fuzzy as she sinks to her feet.

Everything around her is red and screams and the face Carmen only makes when she’s  _ really  _ scared and  _ uh oh. _

* * *

When she wakes up, the first thing Ivy sees is a hospital light that’s way, way too bright for her eyes. She squeezes them shut again and refocuses.

The second thing is Carmen's hand holding her own, and her head slumped against the chair she sits in, clearly asleep.

Her whole body feels sluggish, the rush of panic doing nothing to help. Her tongue feels too thick in her mouth to move, to yell at her to leave before she gets caught.

Because hospitals mean security, and security means the possibility of watching helplessly,  _ again, _ as men in black suits take Carmen far, far away.

She looks so peaceful, even though the alarms in Ivy's head are all screaming  _ danger danger danger. _

Ivy tries to squeeze the hand in hers, letting out a scream in frustration that comes out as more of a throaty, high-pitched whine.

It seems to rouse Carmen out of her sleep, eyes shooting open. She closes the space between them as quick, eyes immediately darting to her face. 

Ivy tries to thrash around, do anything to signal in some way. But Carmen's face drops and pales when monitors behind her start beating.

_ Doesn’t matter nothing else matters she has to get out  _ **_now._ **

Ivy tries to scream, shake her head as frustrated tears spring to her eyes.

“Ivy, It's okay.” Carmen cups the sides of Ivy's face and holds her there, forcing her to remain still. “It’s all okay. But you have to calm down.”

Her hearts beating so fast, but Carmen doesn’t look even the tiniest bit concerned for her own safety. Instead, she’s stroking Ivy’s cheekbones with her thumbs, ever so gently. Ivy focuses on that, and forces a few strong, deep breaths.

“Player pulled some strings and I called in a few favors.” Carmen strokes the hair away from her face. “No one’s coming to take me away. I promise.”

Ivy closes her eyes, blocks out everything but the feel of Carmens hands. Gentle and reassuring.

“Zacks okay too.” Her voice is honeyed and relieved, and Ivy feels a wave of shame for not thinking of her little brother first. “They wouldn’t let him in. He’s probably eaten through the entire cafeteria by now.”

“By the way, if anyone asks,” Carmen says with a glint in her eye. “We’re Mrs. and Mrs. Santarosa. They would only let me in here if I told them we were engaged.”

_ We could be. Get me up out of this bed and it’ll be the first thing I do. _

Ivy feels her cheeks get hot, and she knows Carmen feels it too. 

“Ivy…” To her horror, Carmen's eyes start to well up with tears. “I didn’t… they weren’t supposed to have weapons. I should’ve…”

Ivy shakes her head, although the motion leaves her dizzy and sick.  _ Not your fault. _

“You lost.... A lot of blood.” She sniffs, voice dropping to a lower octave. “I thought about changing my color because… Jesus, Ivy.”

Ivy leans her head into the hand cupping her cheek, looks up at Carmen, and hopes she understands her  _ I’m sorry.  _

But she isn't. Not really. Because she can’t imagine their roles being reversed, Ivy the concerned partner and Carmen broken and bleeding. 

It's hard to imagine Carmen as anything other than perfectly put together and composed. Even now, when she’s dressed in one of Ivy’s too-big t-shirts and her eyes are rimmed red, Ivy can’t find it in her to picture Carmen as anything other than stunning.

Maybe Carmen understands that because she shakes her head. “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet. The sedative must’ve not worn off.”

It makes a lot of sense to Ivy, because Carmen touches a spot on her collarbone and she flinches with how tender it is. 

She feels her eyelids begin to get heavy again. Carmen begins carding her fingers through her red hair, causing Ivy to hum in contentment.

“Hey, go back to sleep,” Carmen reassures. “I’ll see if I can sneak Zack in here to come see you.”

Ivy’s eyes widen.  _ Please don’t leave. _

“I’m not going anywhere.” Carmen links their hands together and ghosts her lips over their intertwined knuckles. "I'm staying right here."

Her voice is irreverent, so soft that Ivy’s not sure they’re still having a conversation. But as her vision fades and she slips back into unconsciousness, she doesn’t care.

She’s not going anywhere either.

* * *

Carmen's hands are warm, hot against her sides as they stumble through the door to her room.

She’s got her face buried in Carmen's neck, and finds herself getting drunk off her perfume as she nips up and down it. 

It’s muffled and quiet, but the  _ I love you  _ makes them both gasp a little, and the noise Ivy makes when Carmen winds her hands through red hair and pulls is a sound she’ll deny ever making.

Then Carmen's hands slide down, circle her waist and pull them flush together. Ivy knows her face is as red as her hair, and there’s not a bone in her body that cares.

Then they crash onto Ivy’s bed, and Carmen puts her hands to much better use. 

* * *

Carmen pants as she lands one last hit on the punching bag. It swings wildly, it’s cord straining and creaking. She holds her breath, wondering if it’ll break.

It rocks back and forth before slowing, coming to a rest in front of her. She huffs and smiles. 

Zack has picked up a habit of buying a coffee mug for each place they travel to. It’s beyond gimmicky and touristy, but she can’t deny that the kitchen cabinet they’ve set aside for his collection makes her smile each time she sees it. 

She selects two, the distinctly gaudy space-needle-shaped one, and the one emblazoned with neon yellow that proclaims Reyjavik as the best city in the world. 

Carmen fills them both with the pot of coffee she just brewed, and begins.

She hears the sounds long before she reaches her destination. There's rarely a time when the garage is ever silent. Ivy’s always building something, Zacks always begging to test it out, and Shadowsan is usually scolding them both for their volume. 

Right now though, in this very early morning, all she hears is the faint sounds of the radio, and the louder sounds of someone cursing.

She pushes her way into the garage with her foot, creeping silently down the stairs.

Ivy’s bent over under the hood, singing along to some pop song on the radio that she’ll claim to be indifferent to later. Years down the line and her Bostonian accent is so thick that even Carmen can’t understand it sometimes.

She sneaks behind her, coffee still in hand, preparing to lay a hand in her back and scare her.

Ivy looks up, not even slightly surprised.

“Hey there.” She yawns, but smiles. “What's the story mornin’ glory?”

“Not much.” Carmen passes her the second cup, which Ivy reaches for with grabby hands. “What are you up to this early?”

Ivy rubs at her eyes blearily. “Replacing Charlotte's fuel pump.”

The old Mustang was rusted, the engine was shot, and it leaked so much oil that Zack suggested putting a diaper on it. But it was red, and it was Ivy’s baby. For months she would rise in the early hours of the morning to replace some part, to rewire something so that it would ride again.

And every morning Carmen came down here to watch with complete faith.

It's her favorite activity by far, watching Ivy’s brow furrow in concentration as she fiddles with wires and tools and a whole host of other things that Carmen can’t really name because she’s much too busy watching her fiance do something she loves.

“You packed for Spain yet?”

Ivy hums an affirmant around her mugful before wiping her mouth with her hand. “Yep. All the essentials. Toothbrush, pajamas, that one shirt you really like-

“-sunscreen?” Carmen quirks an eyebrow.

Ivy's pauses. “Alright. Most of the essentials.”

“I packed it, don’t worry.”

Ivy lazily beams before ducking back under the hood. “My hero.”

Carmen rolls her eyes as the sounds of Ivy's tinkering resumes. Combined with the faint pop song on the radio, and the sunlight beginning to filter in through the window, it's pretty idyllic.

Occasionally Ivy will ask her to hand her a wrench, or a screw, and she’ll comply easily. But mostly she’s entranced with the way the sunlight glints off the chain Ivy keeps her ring on, and the way it shines off the oil slicked on her hands. She follows the line of Ivy’s arm back down to her ring finger and smirks at the indent there.

Eventually, Carmen stands, stretching her arms above her head. Ivy doesn’t seem to notice but meets her halfway when she leans in for a kiss.

“Alright, I’m going to go take a shower.” She smirks as she begins to collect the mugs. “You’re welcome to join me when you’re done here.”

A loud  _ clang  _ rings through the garage as Ivy abruptly stands upright, slamming down the hood. 

All Carmen can do is laugh as Ivy grabs her hand and drags them both up the stairs.


End file.
